The Wager
by Hanna Squalor
Summary: Esme and Olaf broke up but they still have to deal with one thing. Who gets the suite for the last night in the hotel? Esme and Olaf comedy. Warning for language and sexual references.


Summary: Esme and Olaf broke up in book 12 but before the morning of court they had to go somewhere. Who got to keep the hotel suite? Perhaps a challenge is in order. Read to find out. Esme and Olaf hilarty. Warning some scenes are risque and there is some swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

The Wager

"Get out it's my suite!"

"My name is on the register!"

"My credit card numbers are sitting next to it!"

"Look. This suite is rented out to Count Olaf party of three. You are not Count Olaf. You are no longer Count Olaf's girlfriend. Get out." Olaf sneered referring to himself in third person which is a very heinous crime at any time.

"As easily as I could rent another room all of my clothes are in here. It takes much to long to re pack and un pack them. Not to mention I paid for the room so I'm keeping the room." Esmé retorted.

"Fat chance. There is no way I'm letting you or your orange haired brat sleep in this room." Olaf stated, firmly keeping ground and staring hard at his ex girlfriend who was still scantily clad in things from the produce section.

"You just can't afford a new room. Just like you can't afford to host a party. Because you're too stupid to catch three pre teens. It's not that hard and you can't live with yourself for it. My wallet will no longer suffer from you drowning your failures in wine. Get OUT." Esmé emphasized, pointing at the door.

"You will not be hosting MY party. The ball room is rented to me. Not you. Deal with that. Oh and buy the way you drown your sorrows in clothing. Your addiction is much more expensive than mine. The only reason you're mad is because you are a petulant child who is always craving attention. I can't give you my attention and trying to force attention to Carmelita will not solve anything." Olaf tried his best to hurt her.

Hurt her? Why in the world would be want to hurt the little girl he had raised from the age of five. The sweet little blonde child from the ashy ruin that had brown into this black haired temptress that stood before him barley dressed. Why was he mad at her? He was mad because she was supporting Carmelita. Carmelita was the source but pride stopped all chance of either of them from admitting it. The truth would save their relationship. The truth would win her back.

"Well….I'm not leaving. This suite, I got it first and ….yeah I'm leaving." Olaf said firmly but very inarticulately.

"I'm not leaving either. I'm getting Carmey a suite but I'm staying out. You wont get rid of me." Esmé assured.

"Is that a bet?" Olaf asked.

"Sure. If you can keep me out of this place all night you win. I'll give you five hundred dollars. And if I win You wear one of my dresses to court tomorrow."

"Deal." Olaf agreed shaking her hand.

"Deal." Esmé said firmly shaking his hand. He hip bumped her out the door. Met with a white painted door to the face Esmé used her car key to get in (Where she was keeping said card key in her itty bitty lettuce bikini we don't know but…..moving on). Nursing a slightly bloody nose Esmé walked back into the suite.

"I knew you wouldn't be easily fazed. However I know you're weaknesses." Olaf warned.

"Ah, but I know yours as well." Esmé said in return. She went strait for his ribs. He was ticklish as most villains are, and Olaf collapsed into a heap trying to get her off of him and breath at the same time. Once he was able to get Esmé at bay he went for her ticklish spots as well. Esmé's inner thighs were very vulnerable as they we her most ticklish spot and they were left uncovered.

Both panting they broke apart and crawled away from each other. "So, I have a tough enemy. But you shall fall. I will get you to willingly leave this suite, without force. So help me or I will eat one of my undershirts." Olaf wagered.

"I'll take that bet. And I will give you the additional satisfaction of -" Esmé was cut off.

"If I win you have to pay me the five hundred PLUS you have to wear my leopard spotted Speedo and nothing else to court tomorrow." Olaf exclaimed.

Esmé hesitated. "Fine deal."

Olaf grinned. "This will be an interesting evening."

Olaf had Esmé in a head lock but she kept the remote clamped firmly in her hands. "You'll never take it from me alive!" she croaked.

"That can be changed darling." Olaf mocked releasing her from his grip, but quickly grabbing the remote from her hands. "There is no way I'm spending tonight watching fashion TV for the In style and in flair."

"I hate you." Esmé pouted.

"Do you hate me enough to sleep with me one more time just for spite?" Olaf asked hopefully.

"Never." Esmé answered hitting with a remote for the VCR.

"Ouch. Piss off." Olaf hissed. He reached for the phone.

"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously. "I'm calling room service. And perhaps for someone friendly to entertain me for the night. Candy, or Coco or Cindy would be more than happy to-"

"No! Not a chance you can't afford it and I'm not paying for it." Esmé laid the rules down firmly.

"Fine, then you aren't calling for any food!" Olaf pouted he threw the phone threw the open balcony door where it flew off the terrace.

They were watching TV for several minutes before Olaf heard a crunching sound. "What are you eating?"

"My lettuce." Esmé answer. She wasn't going hungry for him.

"No food, whatsoever. That's the rule." Olaf said taking the piece of lettuce from her. She still had enough lettuce to cover herself but she was missing a big chunk now.

"I'm going to change." Esmé announced.

"Yeah that's probably a good thing. I heard you're supposed to change your lettuce daily before the fruit flies start getting at it." Olaf joked ripping off a piece of her tape as she passed. She screamed in pain.

"You horrid-" Esmé started.

You're lettuce is falling off. But it's probably going to be the last time I see that wonderful ass so good thing huh?" Olaf joked. Esmé huffed and left in a hurry, Olaf watching her leave.

Esmé returned later lettuce free and wearing a white night gown that was formfitting and had pictures of peaches all over it. It was to tease him and he knew it but he let himself gawk anyway because for once he couldn't have her.

It all came rushing back to him. That's why he loved her. Who wouldn't love those legs? Olaf had to bite his tongue while Esmé sat next to him rubbing lotion on her legs. He hadn't counted on this sort of torture. She turned on the couch so her feet rested right next to his legs. She continued to lather the lotion up and down her legs. The intoxicating sent of it and just the look of her bare legs close enough to touch was driving him crazy. She was winning. He couldn't just let her win like that.

He turned and watched the television. "Oh wasn't it sweet seeing Jerome again. He really is looking well." Her voice made him turn back to her where his eyes were stuck once again on her glistening legs.

"You mean he's looking even better now that his book is putting even more money in his bank account." Olaf corrected. He put a hand on her foot and slid it up to her knee. She kicked him in the ribs.

"No touching." She scolded, getting up and leaving the room, and Olaf's moans of pain.

After Olaf recovered from the kick he got up and found her in the bedroom. She was laying on top of the covers with a fashion magazine. In the middle of the bed.

"Move over. The bed is mine." Olaf instructed, hand on his ribs.

"No. The woman always gets the bed." Esmé said matter-of-factly.

Olaf hoped onto the bed and snuggled in close to Esmé. "I'm taking the bed whether you're in it or not." he said throwing his arms over her and hugging her in like a teddy bear.

"I said no touching." Esmé screamed in protest, trying to pry him off her.

"You just happen to be in my bed. I'm accidentally touching you. I just move a lot in my sleep. " Olaf yawned into her face.

"Ew! Get off me. You ripped my magazine." Esmé pouted tossing the article scraps to the side. She slowly settled down and accepted the fact that Olaf wasn't about to release her. Olaf had barley started snoring when he jumped from the bed with a screech.

"Esmé, you witch. I thought we said no force." Olaf whined.

"Fingernails aren't really using force." Esmé.

"Tell that to the pain in my arse. I'm probably bleeding." Olaf said as if he had been fatally wounded.

"You're such a baby." Esmé chided with a grin.

"Yes, yes I am a baby. Even more of one than that Carmelwhacamagirl…Waaa! See I'm a baby! Waa! WAA! WAAA--OUUGHFF" Crying cut short by a pillow to the head, Olaf threw the pillow back at Esmé.

Esmé hid under the covers to evade his pillow attack. He seemed to leave her alone, infact he never even came back to bed. She fell asleep there, under the covers.

She was sunbathing. Sunbathing in an igloo. The igloo was melting on her dripping icy drops of water down her back.

Esmé woke with a start, as another ice cold drop slid down the tanned skin on her back. As soon as Esmé raised her head Olaf knew that he wouldn't get a better opportunity so he dropped the ice cube down her night gown and grabbed more ice to stick into any article of her clothing he could get into. Esmé screamed as she was bombarded by five or six cold cubs of ice being dropped down the front of her night gown.

Minutes later, after getting all the ice out of her night gown Esmé stood facing Olaf in the middle of the suite. There had to be a way to win and she would find it. So help her, she was going to win.

She smelled so strongly of perfume it was nauseating. So nauseating Olaf woke up. Was he dreaming that? Why was he sticky? He had the bed to himself but as he looked down at himself he seemed to be coated in what he could only assume was syrup covered in liquid soap coated in syrup coated in glue. And his clothing was missing. Gone. Naked and very sticky, Olaf got out of the bed taking the sheet with him. (It was glued onto his back) Olaf found Esmé out of the terrace. "Where are my clothes?" Olaf asked just as he spied a single sock hanging over the railing. Looking down at the parking lot he saw where they were quiet clearly and watched a truck park on top of them. "Oh ha." Olaf commented.

Esmé cracked up. "Oh wonderful look." she pointed to his hair which was plastered every which way and partially onto the sheet.

Olaf disappeared into the suite. Esmé followed, cackling all the way. He got a pair of scissors out. "Are you going to cut the sheet off or are you finally going to trim that eyebrow?"

Olaf looked at the scissors for a moment as if wondering how he could do it without peeling his skin off with the sheet. Instead he dove at Esmé with the scissors. In a single motion he had cut down the front of her nightgown leaving her almost as naked as himself. He grabbed her and hugged her.

"No my pores! You bastard get off me!" Esmé screamed. When she had finally clamed down she realized her hair was stuck to him. Esmé hit the floor in a dead faint. When she awoke she was free from Olaf but missing a significant chunk of hair. The shriek echoed thought the hotel.

Olaf reappeared, cleaned off a bit but in the shoddy way that it was clear he had only found a wash cloth and wiped it off with water. He wore a robe belonging to Esmé, with the sheet draping out the back, evidently still attached.

Esmé was in theatrics. Her breathing was quick and she was on the verge of a panic attack. Olaf waited for her to see the rest of his latest attempt at winning. She hadn't even looked at her legs which had "I love Olaf" written up and down them in black permanent marker. She didn't take to well to that either. She had to draw a final card. She got out the soap.

Olaf could only run. It was all he was good at. Esmé chased him with the lavender double berry surprise stick of soap threatening to make him smell like whatever lavender double berry surprise smelled like. "Esmé! Calm down there's no need to get mean here." Olaf tripped over a cord. The lamp fell on him and Esmé took her chance. She tied him to the couch and chair. He was now stranded.

It seemed like forever but in only a minute Esmé was back with something which she dribbled onto his forehead. It was hot but barley enough to ever hurt someone. She put paper on it. Olaf had no idea what she was doing. She left him to wonder.

It became all too clear as Esmé ripped the paper from his eyebrow pulling out a large group of thick hairs that had been left to fester there. Olaf yelled harshly as he was blinded by the pain for a few moments.

"Darling that looks so much better." Esmé chided jokingly. Olaf now had two eyebrows separated by a strait line, it looked ridiculous.

Olaf pulled free and swiped at Esmé's ankles. She stepped out of the way.

"No such luck, Jack." Esme left the room, flicking off the lights as she went.

Olaf looked at the ceiling. That woman would leave the suite one way or another and she was leaving.

Both having sworn vengeance on the other they sat at opposite ends of the couch. Both looking over one another. Each had been though a lot. Olaf' uneven eyebrows had a painful looking red spot in the center of them and Esmé's now lopsided hair stuck out in a painfully obvious way.

"Three hours until court." Esmé informed.

"That's not long for you to pack all your stuff. You better get started." Olaf suggested.

"Not a chance. It's my suite." Esmé retorted.

"I'm burning the hotel down. You'll lose all your clothing if you don't pack it." Olaf pushed.

"I'll lose my pride if I do." Esmé snapped.

"You'll lose your pride anyway. As soon are your friends see your hair." Olaf informed.

"Try being taken seriously with those eyebrows." Esmé chuckled.

"I'm sick of you!" Olaf yelled.

"Try living with you!" Esmé yelled back.

"I will. I'll finally be free of you and your perfume, your lotion, your ridiculous clothing! Everything Esmé. You're marriage to Jerome was the best vacation I've ever had." Olaf huffed.

"I wont have to kiss someone who tastes like a wine factory, and smells like barn. I can lead a comfy life that doesn't involve moving around, and have food that isn't roast beef." Esmé sent all the hate back to him.

Olaf reached out, unsure of wear he wanted to hurt her first. He nails came down on her leg leaving red lines of blood. Esmé gasped in pain and wiped the blood off. It was nothing compared to other times Olaf had hurt hr. And that had been when he loved her. Esmé sat up and applied enough pressure to her leg to stop the bleeding. She thought she would be above the petty violence but such rage was built up within her she reached out and struck him across the face. He caught her wrist.

With one swift tug she was pulled close enough to him to be caught with a slap. Esmé exhaled sharply in pain. Olaf was breathing heavily. He stared at the woman standing in front of him with a pure hatred for her but then it faded. And he saw something in her eyes that reminded him of all the times before this.

Esme and Olaf had always been the five minute couple. One second they were the best couple you knew, the ones that were always touching each other in some way, completely in love. The next they were having screaming matches across a room. They had never been bashful about fighting either it was almost always a public affair. There were people who tried to sit close to them just to hear them talk encase a fight broke out, just so they could hear what had actually happened.

Olaf's free hand caught Esmé's face and turned it to him. Her eyes were watering with the sting of the slap. He kissed her, taking her aback. She made to move away but he held her close, not letting her go.

Moments later they were on the couch kissing each other freely.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"Because! Because! Not this time. Never never again. Damn it you've lead me around blindfolded my whole life but now I see. Love's clouds kept me from seeing the truth! I can't stay with you. There is not future for me with you. It's only your future. It's never never been about me and I hate it."

"Fine then get out." Olaf said simply.

"No. I can't walk out of your life. I have to kick you out of mine."

"Oh this is another of your crazy female theories, is it?" Olaf asked with a laugh.

"No. It's my own belief. I paid for the damn suite, I'm not your mistakes." Esmé said forcibly.

"I think you're getting a little weird. I think it's that lopsided hair style. Here. Let me even it out for you." Olaf grabbed a pair of scissors from where he had attempted to cut the sheet off his back and went for her hair.

Esmé screamed and ran. "Get away from me, the only men I let near my hair with scissors are ones who wear pink and have toy dogs."

"Come now, dear. Trust me." Olaf coaxed.

"I trust you as often as you bath."

Esmé was chased onto the balcony. "Now you're trapped."

"Aha!" Esmé yelled triumphantly and held a small object over the railing.

"No! How did you get that!? Hand it over, Esmé."

"Drop the scissors or I drop the book." Esmé threatened.

"Not my little black book." Olaf pleaded.

"That's right. Every woman you've ever gotten a phone number from. Gone….and I already took the liberty of tearing my page out for you."

"You're a wicked woman."

"That I am. And I-- Do you hear that?" Esmé asked.

"Yes. It sounds like an alarm clock." Olaf said. Then he clued in. "It's time to leave for court!"

"We'd better get going. Wait….who won?" Esmé asked.

"I did?" Olaf announced.

"How so?" she asked.

"Like this." Olaf said with a smile before cutting her hair on the other said. Esmé screamed and tossed the book off the balcony.

"You witch. Oh hell. Wait until you see your hair curlers."

The End. Please Review!


End file.
